Babying
by Princess Unity
Summary: I have a curse. A horrible, horrible curse. I'm the baby. The baby of the League, the Bat-Family, the High-School, the Outlaws (thanks to Jay and Roy), and even the Gotham villains. Some people wished they could be spoiled crazy, but I just wish people would treat me less like a... baby. But no, I am and always will be, a baby bird.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, this has, like no plot, I just got bored... so, um, no flames 'cause it honestly kinda' stinks, not my best writing, so forgive and forget, PLEASE? It's a one-shot, you can tell me to continue if you like, if people want me to, sure thing, I just spouted a bunch of random stuff, and I'm too tired to proof-read it, maybe in, like a month... yawn* Enjoy, and review, if you'd like. I love 'em, but I dunno if this is review-worthy, kind of cute though. (: Thanx.**

 **I own nothing but the plot-less idea.**

 **Oh, yah, it's in reverse, but only with the Batfam, so sure kill me, you'll just make me sad...**

To be honest, school sucks.

No matter who you really are, people at school don't really care a crap about who you are. Not to be rude, just to be honest. Lucky for me and my undersized thirteen year old geeky-looking mathlete self, I happened to go to a school in which I had several older brothers to look after me.

Several popular, ripped, athletic, and presumably good-looking older brothers. Damien was my oldest brother, and a senior. I often heard it said he was "totally the hottest!" he also happened to have an impeccable 4.0 GPA and an air of superiority and regal-ness that was rumored I could only break.

He had sharp evergreen eyes, spikey black hair, tanned skin, and stood a head taller than anyone in the school. Then came Tim, the smart one, with a staggering GPA of impossible 8.3 with shy Tiffany blues and black hair. He was average height, but his dimples and eyes could get any girl (taller or not) to fall for him in seconds.

Then came Jason, standing nearly as tall as Damien himself, with an equally thick build and intelligence exceeding petty standardized grading systems, as was obvious with his quick wits and even quicker reflexes, in brain and matter, even with the lowest GPA of my family, nevertheless standing at a 3.65, and that's because half the time he was trying to get out of it. Not too long ago he'd returned to the land of the living, unfortunately losing his teal eyes for red ones… but that was nothing some contacts couldn't fix, and fangs he didn't particularly try to hide, finished with a white lock of hair that only made girls fall for the tall, ripped freshman who also happened to be a varsity football player even worse.

And that's just my incredibly popular _brothers_. I also have Terry, but he graduated a while ago. But back to my point, I also have two older sisters who too many guys have asked me to "set me up with her, will yah, Little Guy?" before rubbing my hair and giving me their number to pass along.

Cass lives in the freshman year with me, despite being older than me by two years. She had been stuck with an 3.79 ever since third grade, but if you don't think that's good enough, go shove your head in a barrel… anyway, she has amber eyes and shoulder-length black hair and a tiny smile that caused guys to go nuts trying to make it more, but only I can make her truly grin (unless it was in a truly sadistic way as she looked on as her other siblings had… embarrassing moments), finished by an Asian touch that left her simply breath-taking.

And then comes Steph, a leggy athletic girl with crystal blue eyes and curly chest-length slightly dirty blond hair. She had a grin that drove teachers to constantly send her to detention and girls to whisper rude things to make themselves feel better, not to mention cheer-captain who keeps trying to recruit her "Outrageously adorable teeny-tiny little brother with blue eyes that could get a mountain to move at their puppy-dog cuteness!" (as the rest of the cheerleaders deemed her sibling) which, unfortunately, is me, and I doubt becoming a guy cheerleader is really going to help my cause, so… sorry, Steph. She has a 3.5, I know I said Jason's the lowest, but she will HUNT ME DOWN if I even suggest she a teeny bit less smart than any of us, sooo… yeah.

And I, unfortunately, am the baby of it all.

I've skipped two grades, have 7.1 GPA, am a mathlete that has won world-wides, I have the blackest hair of anyone in the family, so much so that it seems to have about as much light to it as a black hole, I'm kinda' small, though few can see beneath my school uniform well-tuned, lithe, muscles and numerus… interesting… scars. But I gotta say, the thing people comment on the most are my eyes. I don't like to talk about it much, because they make me sound like I'm bragging, but… they're electric. Thousands of shades of cobalt, cerulean, true, tiffany, teal, sky, crystal, navy, Prussian, crystal, neon… electric. Even a few shades of violet. And… yeah, that's me.

And my older siblings whom baby me to no end.

And I haven't even started on the League, or the Outsiders, or the Gotham Elite, or the World-Wide Elite, or even the Team, the one place I had the chance to be equal, I end up the littlest and youngest and the most vulnerable, blah, blah, blah, therefore, it seems, wherever I go, I'm babied.

Even Joker, out of all the Batkids, likes me the most. He'd never kill me. He loves to torture me, but he'd never kill me. Even Lex Luthor seems to have taken protectiness to me, not as the cackling Robin, but the mild-mannered, obedient, genius Dick Grayson so if Bruce Wayne _just so happened_ to be murdered during his sleep…

And even though I mentioned Joker, I didn't even get you _started_ on Selina, or even the rest of the Gotham Wackos. None want me dead, sure, most would love to hurt me and kill the rest of the Batfam, but I seem to carry an unfortunate burden with me everywhere I go that screams "I'm an adorable, innocent, vulnerable, baby bird, please don't hurt me! Love me! Love me!" and it seems that it always works.

Therefore, my point is: school stinks, and having a bunch of superheroes, anti-heroes, over protective _bat_ -family members, anti-heroes, supervillains, and even FIRCKIN' _evil_ , _self-absorbed_ , _demon_ high-schoolers babying one might not be as fun they may think, even if half the girls are sassy so-called "hot" high-school chics, villain chics, and super-chics, it's just… I'll have to grow up eventually.

Oh, never mind, turns out Lex figured out suspended animation, and chambers that won't allow time to pass within, and Ivy (of course she's paired with Cheshire and Harley, although since when Gotham villains cared a crap about the Light I don't know…) just threatened me with it, and my older brother Red Hood/Jason is about to shield me from a giant plant-thingy while Starfire's screaming, "ROY THEY'RE AFTER OUR BABY BIRD!" Yeah… she's not the best at the whole "No Names on the Field" thing…

Anyway, I don't really want to become Peter Pan or have my over-protective brothers dying to protect me from some branches that will give me an _unspeakable_ horrible thing like a rash for a couple hours, so… gotta' go, peace out.

 **And that's my attempt at a one-shot. Also, not all highschoolers are _that bad_ , but most are. Is it just me, or are most people on here the ones who are socially awkward, geeky, nerdy (you don't have to get good grades to be a nerd, smartism- I can make up words to, okay?- comes not from little facts but intelligence and dark matter, so yah), ones who often are/were bullied and would probably fit in much better if we could retreat into our minds and have wonderful group chats with our beloved fictional characters, I mean seriously, that should totally count as social-time (not really, but too bad logic). I mean, I kinda' am, like in when I do/did (I can't let you know if I'm school or not, sorry, I do spend a lot of time with bat-characters in my head and have thus picked up their paranoia, I'm already working on contingency plans... heh, heh...) PE I can't help but think, "Dick'd be able to that..." or "Tim would teach one that the angle and force of the throw had to be changed by 7.6689% to get required velocity..." or "Damien would probably glare at everyone and then walk away saying, 'this is a waste of my time. You are all complete idiots." Well... long after note, but I'm kinda' blabbering, so forgive, please? Bya.**

 **Review, I love them, but I won't blame you if you don't.**

 **~Universe**

 _p.s: I actually love being a geek and a nerd. it's quite enjoyable to spout random facts and fancy words that no one can understand._


	2. Chapter 2

**HUH... so I wanted to wait longer, but hey, why not?**

 **I DO NOT OWN... seriously, I don't**

* * *

I hate staring contests.

Why? Because they hurt. I have an amazing amount of self-control, so I could do it for hours, and that's not good for my health. Right now, I am using that skill to stare intently and unfailingly at the wall.

It is a very boring wall.

But it's less boring than the Gala I'll have to face if I leave the bathroom I don't really need to use. I'm sitting on the counter staring at the wall, counting the ticking seconds in my head. _3,600, 3,601, 3,602…_ and so on.

Outside my haven violins squealed and entitled, tinkering, generally fake laughs rang out. Suddenly there was banging on my door, and in my surprise I yelped and fell on the ground. Thank goodness Alfred's so good at keeping it clean.

"You okay?" came a muffled voice.

I scowled and peaked through the door to see two green eyes meet my blues. "Roy?" I asked, surprised.

"Hey there, Baby Bird."

"I'm not a baby anymore." I rolled my eyes. Why did everyone insist on calling me that?

"Uh… yeah, okay, whatever. How long you been hiding in there?" he asked through the crack in the door.

"Um… two-and-a-half hours?"

"What?! Come on, the Gala can't be that bad." I glared at the red-head and his statement.

"We both know that's a lie." I grumbled. "Why are you here anyway?"

"Because I wanted to say hi. How's the rash from that pollen doing?"

"It's gone, Roy. It's not the end of the world. It only lasted until I took a shower."

"Okay, are you going to come out?"

"No."

"But they're about to do the toast." The archer prompted.

"I can't even drink."

"Neither can I." My honorary big brother pointed out.

"Uh… lemme think about it- NO." I finalized.

"OH MY GOSH! LET ME DO THIS!" Suddenly Roy stumbled aside, seeming to have been pushed aside and two crystal blue eyes appeared along the crack, then two hands with perfect nails painted the same color as her eyes, then the door was forced open, revealing none other than a glowering Stephanie.

"Young man, get out here right now." She grabbed the sleeve of my suit and dragged me out to where Tim stared, his tiffany blues wide, and Jason seemed to have been pulling himself out of a very ticked pout.

"Uh…" I looked at my siblings. "What?"

"Baby Bird, it's time for the toast." Suddenly Damien was shoving an amber liquid in a wine glass into my hands.

"Uh, Dami, I'm underage." I frowned as each of my siblings (all of which were under twenty-one) took their own.

"It's Apple Cider, Dick." Damien led me too were all the Waynes stood, looking austerely over the quieting Gala. I sighed and went up the stage with them, me and my five older siblings lining up behind our dad.

"And so, without further ado," Bruce had his Brucie smile on, "To the wonderful GCPD!" he raised his glass, along with many others, and took the drink.

I tried not to gulp mine, but I was quite anxious to re-commune with my bathroom and very interesting wall. I was about to retreat when a felt a snag on my collar, I looked around dully to see Cass's fingers twined in it, pulling me back to my previous position.

I sighed and stood there dully, until suddenly there was a bang, then silence. Complete silence. I swiveled my head behind me to see three men, all with guns, typically. The one in front had just planted a bullet right between Bruce's feet. This is the point in the story where I wish I could be a nobody so I could _bam!_ Become Robin and kick these guy's butts. But noooooo, I'm famous son of Bruce Wayne, Richard Grayson-Wayne.

But, this was, after all, a GCPD Gala, therefore all the numerous cops had their own guns out in seconds. Unfortunately, the goons' own guns were all focused on Bruce.

But apparently, they thought better of it and focused their guns on Dami. "Now, Mr. Wayne, you'll give us what we want or the heir to your fancy little throne is done-for. And trust me, he is expendable, just look at how many heirs you have." The lead thug smiled blandly, sweeping his gun at the rest of us, he said it like we were just pets.

"No, you imbecile. I am not the heir to the Wayne fortune." Damien sniffed superiorly, looking completely undisturbed that three heavy guns were trained on him.

"You… Aren't?" trailed the leader.

"No, you are all incompetent fools for not knowing such."

"Then… who is?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I spat. Cass's eyes widened and she slapped a hand over my mouth. The leader's eyes snapped to me and wheels seemed to churn in his brain. I could almost hear him thinking about who would be the best hostage, and despite the whole police department being there, they knew if they moved Dami would be dead in seconds. Finally the goon seemed to settle on something, shifted so the gun was settled on me. His partners did the same.

Dami looked at me with sudden regret, I knew he was thinking something along the lines of, "Stupid me! I should have just been the Wayne heir for five minutes!" though he'd never admit it out loud.

Cass pushed me behind her, and Tim was bat-glaring the goons to no end. Jason's hand was twitching near his belt, where I knew he kept one of his numerous guns. I also know Jason could have all men bleeding on the floor before a single one had fired a shot, but unfortunately that also meant showing his mad gun skills… and the fact that he had guns without a permit in front of almost the entire GCPD.

Two of the guns pointed at Steph while the third moved steadily closer before throwing a very ticked Cass out of the way and the owner latching his gloved hand tightly on my arm. He slowly retreated back to his partners, me in tow, a gun at my head. Is it bad that I'm having, like, triple déjà vu?

"Now, listen to our demands?"

Bruce glared but nodded slowly, if angrily. "Yes."

"Come on you-" I won't even repeat this part, needless to say it was a seething Jason whom had uttered these… distasteful words. "What do you want?!" (three or four uncivilized words were taken out of the last comment).

"Well," the man smiled, pressing the gun harder to my head, the cold barrel was giving me a headache. His body was warm, slightly too much, betraying his adrenaline, and, in turn, fear. I, on the other hand, was having trouble acting scared. I mean sure, with a twitch of a finger he could have killed me, but he wouldn't. It was a bluff. I could feel it, he wasn't the boss. He was just a goon. A goon who wouldn't kill. Sure he'd act tough and maybe shoot someone, but kill wasn't on his propaganda.

Thus, I'd taken way too many bullets for anyone within a twenty year radius to be afraid of one more measly- although extremely painful- hole in my leg. And, I wasn't particularly scared. I could see Bruce would come to the same conclusion, with the calculating bat-look in his eyes, along with Dami and Cass probably already knew just by reading the guy's body posture. Jason was just too darn mad to think straight, Tim working it out, and Stephanie honestly didn't look like she cared, either way if a bullet was put in her little brother… well that would go _way_ past the "not a hair on his head" rule that they'd put in place a long time ago.

And Roy… were was Roy? I couldn't see him anywhere. But I didn't have long to wonder, because the thug was speaking again, his body shifting behind mine as he spoke. "Mr. Wayne, although you are used to ransom in situations like these, we are not here for money." The man said bravely, but I could feel him shaking slightly as in fear he pressed me closer to him and the gun closer to my head.

"Then what do you want?" Commissioner Gordon tightened his grip on his outstretched pistol.

"We want the Bats." My whole family and I froze, unbearably still.

"So? What do we have to do with it?" Stephanie croaked, tightening her soft white shawl around her elbows. I could see she was secretly afraid that she'd have to fight in her sparkly blue heels and ankle-length crystal blue dress and diamond earrings, necklace, and silver off-set belt. She wasn't Talia, after all.

"Well, we have to have some way to get their attention." The spokesmen explained. I groaned inwardly. Well that's just great. No one was going to rescue us, as the Bats they were trying so desperately to reach were right under their mask-covered little noses.

At least that's what I thought, until Red Hood came. I'm fairly certain the only one more surprised than me in the room was Jason, because, after all, _he_ was Red Hood. But this time he wasn't. But this Red Hood was slightly taller than normal (not that anyone else would notice, but you know, Red Hood _is_ my big brother who enjoys to drill how tiny I am into my mind). Then Red Hood spoke.

"I'm here you…" Red hesitated before spouting off some very bad words. The whole time I was glancing between him and a very stunned Jason. "Now, what do you ~ want?" (I have decided ~ means words Alfred would hunt me down if I repeated).

"Where's the rest?" The spokesman who held me was trembling in fear.

"Around. Now ~in get the ~ point."

I wondered why Jason hadn't shot them yet. Wait- did I seriously just say that? Jason is right in front of me! Then it hit me. That's where Roy went! Is also explains his hesitance to swear, the voice modifier, and the fact that the three weren't dead on the floor or at least bleeding out yet.

Roy had a very bad vocabulary, and the worse temper you'll ever see. Until you meet Jason. Eh. It happens when you're resurrected as a crazy half-zombie then get turned crazy _and_ evil and try to kill your whole family before being put in an Asylum, then transferred to prison where people try to murder you daily because you sent them there and your only fifteen. Then you escape and try to kill your family again and then you realize what an a-hole you've been and then love them again. As I said, it tends to happen.

"Um, we need all of you."

"Well, you're not getting them so get to the point." Also, though Roy knew how to use a gun, and probably had plenty of them as he had gone all-out when donning his teammate's costume, he wasn't fast enough or good enough to make sure I didn't get hurt… not that it mattered, as I said, I can take a bullet, but, obviously, Roy wasn't going to let that happen.

This is the point where I want to scream: "I'M NOT A BABY! I CAN TAKE A BULLET!" Although I'm fairly sure that wouldn't help the whole: "I'm not part of the superhero world, just an innocent son of playboy billionaire Bruce!" thing, so, um, I'd best not say that.

Anyway… "Well, the whole point is we need the Batfam or the Wayne-Fam dies." The guy seemed ready cry, just knowing Red's rep. Fortunately for him, it wasn't Jason-Hood, but Roy-Hood, but it was kind of unfortunate for us.

"How about two Bats? Is that good enough for you?" Barbara, fully clad as Batgirl, joined Roy. I would have face-palmed if I wasn't being used as a human shield against the horrifying image of the only Bat who'd kill and a little girl with a wicked sharp baterang who knew how to use it and wasn't afraid to do just that and plant it in his skull. Okay, maybe just thigh… but that really wasn't on the thug's mind right now.

"N-no. We need them all. Batman, R-Renegade, Red R-Robin, Robin, Black Bat, and the… other Batgirl." If I could see his Adam's apple I am fairly sure it would have just bobbed.

Barbara, ever quick on her feet and wits, nodded. "Let us call them."

The thug was too relieved to realize that any Bat in their right mind would not do that. I strained to see what was going on, but I needn't as there was a sudden bang and two _thwaks!_

The pressure left me and suddenly I was standing by Jason, thanks to Red Hood (never thought I'd say that), and a vicious but fairly one-sided fight was commencing below. Batgirl went all out, but Roy was slightly hindered as he attempted to imitate Red's fighting style.

Then, it was done. The goons were hog-tied on the ground and Red was before me. "You okay, um, civilian?" I snorted. Terrible acting, Roy.

"Oh my gosh! I so am!" I tried high pitch terrified little boy who was just held at gun point. "Thank you!" I hugged Roy and whispered, "More swearing, less hero-ing."

"Uh… glad you're okay." Roy reluctantly pushed me back, probably wanting to hug me back. "Everyone… uh, ~ okay? I know you ~ police officers probably want to arrest me for having an underage gun, so, um, get the ~ out of here with 'em." He pointed to the hog-tied goons.

I tried not to laugh at Roy's horrible imitation of Jason. I could feel the two would be having a talk later. "Uh… call if anything else happens." Then Roy as Red Hood disappeared, leaving Barbara rolling around hysterically on the ground.

"Um, miss?" Commissioner Gordon held out his hand to his daughter, not that he knew that. He squinted at her. "Do I know you?"

"Uh… NO!" and she de-materialized into the shadows, laughing at Roy's… interesting performance.

Then my siblings were around me. "Are you okay?" Bruce's ice blue eyes were intense.

"Yeah, Dad. Because I totally haven't been a worse situation before."

"This is not something to joke about!" Stephanie scolded.

"You could have been killed." Tim's eyes were big as he tried to get it in my head.

"About that…" I remembered my knowledge of the bluff, the fact that this thug was just a goon, not a boss.

"Roy is so dead." Jason stomped past us, assuredly to the Batcave.

"Don't hurt him, Jay. He did just save Dicky's life." Damien pointed out.

Jason grumbled but nodded. He still went to the Batcave, probably to just scream at his fellow Outlaw for not cussing enough and their need to work on his acting.

Without warning, Brice was carrying me upstairs. "Hey! I'm not a baby!"

"You just got held at gunpoint." Jason yelled up the stairs, tinkering with the arcade, which is an entrance to the Batcave.

"You've held me at gunpoint!" I shot back.

"Hey! We agreed never to discuss that!" he stepped through the doorway, which closed behind him.

I tried to squirm (just because I'm small and abnormally light for my age doesn't mean I'm five), but Bruce held tight. In my room, Cass handed me a pair of pajamas, and I glared at everyone before stepping into the bathroom and changing.

I huffed when I came back out and sat on my bed. "The police will want to question me." I tried.

"The whole police force was there." Tim pointed out.

"Still." I wished I could pull a Jedi thing right then. Then I sighed. "There's another thing…" I trailed off.

"What?" Damien narrowed his cold evergreen eyes.

"He wasn't the big-boss."

"Yes. He wouldn't kill. Not the leader." Cass's voice was clipped, only relaying what she found necessary.

"Then…" Tim frowned. "Who is?"

"I dunno! You're the detectives! You figure it out!" Steph yawned. "I'm going to sleep." The cheerleader left to go down the hall to her room.

I glanced at Tim and Bruce. They both looked at each other, then shrugged. Although the whole Bat Family had experience with it, Bruce, Tim, and I were the true detectives. Jason was more of the "run in and shoot everything you see and hopefully kill it" kind of guy, Cass didn't really care for putting together the puzzle, Dami was more of a commander and strategist, and Steph, well… Steph just liked to do the "kick-his-butt-and-be-back-in-time-for-homework" kind of hero.

The two moved to leave, me at their heels, but Bruce turned around and pushed me back in bed. "Hey!" I complained.

"You need to sleep." Bruce's eyes narrowed.

I rolled my eyes. "Two weeks ago I single handedly took down Bane, and came home with more than a headache from a gun pressed against my head, and first thing you said: 'Joker's escaped and holding hostages. Let's go.' And this I suddenly need to sleep for?!"

"You have a headache? Do you need some Advil?" I face-palmed at Tim.

"NO! My point is, I wanna' help! These guys are after the Bats, so I need to!" I sighed.

"Sleep. Now." Bruce pointed at my bed. I rolled my eyes. Just then Jason and Roy walked past, violently screaming about impromptu comedy in the basement of a noodle shop.

"IMPROMTU COMEDY IS NOT LAME!"

"IT'S IN THE BASEMENT OF A _NOODLE_ SHOP!"

"YEAH? WELL YOU RUN AROUND IN TIGHTS EACH NIGHT Oh, uh, never mind, you wear jeans…"

"PSH! I'D SAY! _You're_ the one who named yourself Red Arrow, real original, red!"

"You named yourself Red Hood! It's not even a hood, it's an upside down bucket!"

"Don't you dare insult _me_ , ward of will-nilly Ollie!"

"Ha! You think playboy _Brucie_ is any better?"

"Hey, at least he has the decency to let me call him Dad!"

"My Dad was killed in a forest fire! The second one died of cancer!"

"IT'S IN A _NOODLE SHOP!"_

"Um… Jason? Roy?" Both stopped their intense bickering to stare at Tim, Cass, Bruce and I, whom were all staring at them confused.

"I'm moving out." Jason said bluntly.

"What?" Surprisingly, it was Cass who spoke.

"Why?" Bruce straightened.

"I dunno… I had this sudden urge to move out." Jason shrugged.

"But, Jajay…" I furrowed my brow.

"We'll talk about this later." Bruce growled, turning and pushing me back in bed. "Stay. Put." He growled before turning to Cass, "Get some sleep as well." Finally, he threw a glare at the two Outlaws in front of him. "Go to Star City." Then he stalked off, Tim at his heels.

"Why're we going to Star?" Jason complained.

"Because I don't want to deal with you two right now so I'm letting Ollie take the pleasure this time. Anything else?" The end was in the weird range of Batman's sarcasm, meaning he really wasn't going to except "anything else" and you'd better gut the freak out of there.

"Yeah, tell Roy-Boy here to- OW! What was that for?!" Jason rubbed his shin where Roy had kicked him.

"Nothing, Jay-Babe, isn't that what she called you?"

"You-!"

"Yeah? That all you got? Curses? Be creative, Jay Jay Binks!"

"Seriously? And you say I'm not creative you worthless idiot? Try this, Harperella!"

"Haha! Creativity at it's all time low, Jaydin!"

"Why you little- get your ~ over here!" Jason began chasing his fellow red.

"You're hearts a dead tomato squash with moldy purple spots, Zombie-Boy!"

"Real freakin original, you two-faced son of a-!"

"Lose the curse and find some originality! Have you ever seen Calamity Jane?"

"I'm not old like your Grandmother, I don't watch those shows!"

"Aw! It's a classic, dirt-ball with two weak old salami in the _men's_ locker room!"

"How's that even a name, Harper?!"

"STAR CITY NOW!" Both teens jumped at Bruce's demand, running to the Zetaes as fast as they could. Then my scary guardian turned to me. "And you better not get out of bed again." He growled before dragging Tim the rest of the way to the Batcave.

I sighed in defeat and sat on my bed. This really sucked, but at least I wasn't Ollie. Oh yeah. I am very thankful I'm not the Emerald Archer right now, he had no idea what terrible fate lay when the beams announced my two brothers… I snickered and drifted off with that in mind.

And a fear lingering at the back of my mind, after all, someone was out for the Bats. Not that that was out of the ordinary…

* * *

 **OK. Don't expect regular updates. But hey, the _second_ I get like ten reviews I'll start working on it. It's not a requirement, but no promises on how long it will take if not. Thanks for all the previous reviews!**

NEXT CHAPTER: (most likely scenario) The Outlaws take Dick somewhere. Kory thinks he's adorable. Jason's a jerk of an overprotective older brother, and Roy is... Roy. Oh, and Wally _might_ sneak after them and most likely end up nearly killed.

 _ **~Universe**_


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